THE MOST FRIGHTENING TWO WORDS

THE MOST FRIGHTENING TWO WORDS.

What are the most frightening two words one person can say to another?  You’re fired?  Hands Up! You’re what? In-laws coming?  Those pale in comparison to the words every screen writer fears.  Director’s vision.

What does that mean?  It means everything you’ve worked on for weeks, months or even years is now laying on Doctor Frankenstein’s table about to be arranged to suit the mad scientist.

Let’s take your passion project for an example.  Every writer has one, I know I do.  It’s the one where you say, “I don’t want a word changed. Or a scene. Or a character or location or hair color or age or…or…or”  You get the idea.  It’s your baby and you wanted it treated as such.  Look at it, coo over it, smile and tell me how much it looks like me, but DON’T TOUCH IT!

You’ve written a screenplay about a little girl and her kitten.  It’s based on your life in part because…well, you’re a girl and you once had a kitten, so its grounded on things you know.  You work on the project off and on for two years while reading books on formatting, scene structure, dialog etc until you are absolutely certain you have it right.  Almost a hundred very nice rejection letters….just not right for us, but good luck….we don’t accept unsolicited.. if you will have your agent submit it…returned unopened and a few that questioned your sanity, you finally find someone who is a fan of stories about little girls and kittens. 

They contact you and the negotiations begin. “We’re a small company and don’t have a lot of development money, so we’ll give you one dollar as an option and….” ONE DOLLAR! Are they crazy? No, so get used to it. We’ll talk about options sometime, but not now. You accept and have a party because now you can tell everyone you have a screenplay under option.  They get serious and actually have a director who wants to be a part of your story. You have another party to celebrate.

You take a meeting, probably by phone with the director. He gushes about your script and how it’s amazing that a first-time screenwriter got it right. Then he says, “I really love it and I think I can make it better.” That’s Director’s Vision.

“I know you want this to take place in a little town in GA, but I’m thinking of moving it to India.  And I think the little girl should be a boy who has never spoken and becomes friends not with a kitten but a lion.” You look around to see if you’re still on Planet Earth before you laugh and ask if he’s kidding. And besides, you say, “There are no lions in India. They have tigers. Lions are only in Africa.”

“Oh, right. I forgot. I really like lions. Good visuals, you know. How about if we have one escape from a traveling circus?  What do you think of that?”

What do you think? You think he’s certifiably nuts but you’re wrong. He’s exercising Director’s Vision. If you are a screenwriter and plan to play in the television and film arena, get used to it. Unless you are the writer and director or at least a producer, once your name is on the contract they can change your passion project to something you refuse to watch.

And NEVER celebrate till the check clears.

TWO THANKSGIVINGS TO REMEMBER

TWO THANKSGIVINGS TO REMEMBER

From the very meaning of the word, Thanksgiving is a day to reflect on what we have to be thankful for and to look around and see if you’re surrounded by family and friends.  If so, you need look no further.  I have two Thanksgivings that are indelibly printed in my memory bank.

I was about thirteen and times were hard for my family just as they were for most of our friend and other family members. My mother was a cashier in a grocery store and my dad had a small produce stand at the state farmer’s market.  I had a paper route and it took all the money the three of us made to keep afloat.  I also came down with a case of the mumps.

I couldn’t deliver my papers which meant I did not make the few dollars a week that came in from it.  My mother’s sister was home with three small children and her husband was not making that much money at his job, but they volunteered to deliver my papers until I was well.  The little money I got was given to them for gas for the car.  Thanksgiving was on the horizon.

My mother and her sister always planned a big dinner that day with turkey and all the other things that go with a Southern family dinner.  The only problem was no one could afford to buy a turkey.  A decision was made to buy a chicken and roast it.  I know they were disappointed but that was the best they could do.

A couple of days before Thanksgiving, I was home from school and there was a knock at the door.  I eased to it and opened it to find my boss from my paper route standing there. He first asked how I was feeling and we made small talk for a few minutes. Then he said, “I have something for you,” and went to his car. He came back holding a very large bag with a frozen turkey in it. “We had a drawing for all the paper boys and you won.  Here’s your prize.” It was the biggest turkey I had ever seen.

Did I actually win? Was it a gift from him? Divine intervention? I never found out, but we had one of the best Thanksgiving dinners any of us had ever enjoyed.

The second one was in 1968 at the height of the Viet Nam war.  As side note here.  It was, and is still accepted in some circles to call it the Viet Nam conflict. Anytime a stranger is shooting at you and you are shooting back, it’s a war.

I was a Lieutenant and leading a patrol of about fifteen men. We had been out for about three days when someone mentioned it was Thanksgiving Day.  We usually stopped around mid-day to take a break, check equipment, make radio contact with our base and other necessary things as we ate a meal of C Rations.  Another side note for those of you who have never had C’s.  You get a box of some of the most God-awful things that can be put in a can along with a variety of cookies, candy, powdered drinks, condiments etc.  I won’t go into the names given to some of the entrées by Soldiers, but one of the meals contained a small can of turkey mixed with something that none of us could ever identify.  Since we selected the boxes by random with the contents listed face down, we never knew until they were issued what we got.  I don’t remember what I was prepared to eat that day, but three of my men came up and said they had a special gift for me.  Knowing the men like I did, it could have been anything from a case of leprosy to my orders sending me home.  Instead they handed me the can of turkey from one of their meals.  “Happy Thanksgiving,”  was all they said.  One of them took a photo of me eating out of the can and gave it to me.  It’s one of my prized possessions, but it pales with the memories of those two very special days.

I hope you have similar memories and if you don’t…make some.  It’s not too late.